


Side-Effects of Being Human

by benwisehart



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Pre-Relationship, Sleep Paralysis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 09:23:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11460684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benwisehart/pseuds/benwisehart
Summary: Grief comes at Wanda in unexpected ways. Sometimes, it's nice to not be alone.





	Side-Effects of Being Human

Wanda recognises the sensation as soon as she wakes up to it, but the familiarity doesn’t make a difference. It never has. The buzzing in her ears is deafening, and her chest tightens with fear, weighted by some unseen force. She tries to move, like she always does, but her arms do not respond, as if she’s pinned down.

_No, no._ She can’t do this again. Not now.

She has come to expect his voice, but that only makes it worse.

“You let me die,” Pietro says.

_You are not real,_ Wanda thinks. It does not help. _My brother would not say that._

“It should have been you,” the voice jeers. Wanda finds it hard to breathe, and she can’t bring herself to open her eyes.

_I’m sorry_. The buzzing is quieter now, at least she thinks it is. Without really thinking about it Wanda tries to raise her hand, to reach out toward the source of her brother’s voice, but of course she cannot. That isn’t how this works.

_I’m so sorry, Pietro. I wish it had been me._

“You let me die,” Pietro says. “You let me die.”

Wanda feels herself wince, and she tries again to move her arm. _Just move_ , she thinks. _You’re awake, just move. Just sit up. It’s not real._

Pietro’s voice is soft, but it drowns out the buzzing. He feels so close, like he’s right in front of her. Like all she has to do is open her eyes and he will be back with her again.

“This is your fault,” Pietro says. “Don’t open your eyes—”

“—No,” Wanda gasps, bolting upright.

The room immediately goes silent, the voice and the buzzing gone. Wanda is panting, still trembling with fear, and she forces herself to look around. 

Her room in the Avengers compound doesn’t feel like home yet. She’s starting to wonder if it never will, so long as she doesn’t have her brother here with her. Still, at least she recognises it. The only light comes from her digital clock, calmly displaying the numbers _4:07_ in red light. Exhaling, Wanda runs her hands over her face, realising as she does so that there are tears prickling the corners of her eyes.

This hasn’t happened in over a month now, but she already knows she will not be getting back to sleep tonight. Instead she turns on her bedside light, then rubs her arms, trying to restore some of the feeling…and to stop trembling. 

“I’m sorry, Pietro,” she whispers.

He does not answer.

Wanda treads carefully as she leaves the room; the last thing she needs is to wake up the team. By the time she reaches the kitchen, she feels almost normal.

She lets out a sign and turns the kettle on, before poking through her collection of teas until she finds the lemongrass herbal blend that Clint gave her a few weeks ago. _Laura’s favourite,_ he told her. Wanda leans back against the bench while she waits, closing her eyes again.

She feels Vision’s presence on the edge of her awareness moments before he phases into the kitchen, and she smiles softly without opening her eyes.

“Forgive me, I heard you were awake,” he says.

“Yes,” Wanda says, unsure how else to respond but not unhappy. A minute ago, she may have thought she didn’t want the company, but right now she is grateful for it.

“Are you alright?” Vision asks, making Wanda smile again. Straight to the point, of course. Opening her eyes, she turns to look at him; he’s on the other side of the room, watching her with obvious concern. Vision can sense her unease. Of course he can. Wanda briefly wonders what gave it away, and then decides it doesn’t matter.

“Just some trouble sleeping,” Wanda tells him honestly, moving aside so as to invite him over. She slides her hand into his as soon as he’s close enough, wrapping her other around his arm and bumping her forehead against his shoulder.

Vision seems surprised, but not unwelcomingly so. He squeezes her hand in response, turning to face her properly. “Is there anything I can do, Wanda?”

“Not really,” Wanda says softly. “It’s just an unfortunate side-effect of being human…have you ever heard of sleep paralysis?”

The look on Vision’s face suggests he has not, but it only lasts a second; he pauses briefly while his mind searches the vast repository of knowledge to which he is connected. Understanding crosses his features a moment later. “Oh, I see…the body enters a state of atonia following or preceding REM sleep while the brain remains conscious and aware of its surroundings, resulting in hallucinations and perceived physical experiences to which the person is unable to react…” 

He trails off there, as if distracted. Wanda can tell that he finds it fascinating even though he tries not to. Vision can mimic sleep to a degree, but the human sleep cycle must remain a mystery. She doesn’t mind, though; she has always found Vision’s fascination with humanity endearing.

“Well, I’m no expert on the science,” she says at last, bringing Vision’s back from his reverie. “All I know is that sometimes I wake up and I hear things in my room.”

“I’m sorry,” Vision says. He sounds sympathetic, but uncertain. It’s hardly an experience he can share, after all, but Wanda doesn’t mind. Right now, it’s enough to have him here with her. “It sounds…frightening.”

“It’s terrifying, but it’s alright,” Wanda promises, squeezing his hand, although it’s as much to comfort herself as Vision. “I only learned what it was as a teenager, but I have been having it ever since I was a girl.”

“…Do you hear voices?” Vision asks, watching her with concern, and Wanda wonders if he can sense the real source of her discomfort. The sleep paralysis she can handle. Sometimes months, even years would go by without an episode, but it’s only since she came here after losing Pietro that he started becoming the subject of those episodes.

Wanda sighs. “…Yes,” she says, then adds, “…when I was a little girl…oh, it sounds very embarrassing now, but my parents watched the movie _Alien_ when I was quite young; I always used to see the alien.” She smiles a little at the memory. “I suppose it was the scariest thing I knew of when it started happening, but that’s what it always was, even when I got older.”

She never even told Pietro that; he probably would have found it amusing. Now, she can’t even think of him without hurting.

Vision hesitates a moment before responding. “Is it…something else now?”

Wanda doesn’t answer immediately; she stares at the kettle as it finishes boiling, and Vision, sensing her unease, quickly adds, “You don’t need to answer.”

“It’s not embarrassing,” Wanda says, straightening her back as she goes to pour the tea. “…I hear Pietro.”

She doesn’t tell Vision that the Pietro of her waking nightmares is one who blames her for his death.  The only thing her brain can conjure that scares her more than a parasitic alien monster.

Vision seems to understand anyway; he places a hand on her shoulder, and Wanda sighs. 

She is beyond tears. Every waking moment now is a moment without Pietro, and she is constantly aware of it. Making tea— _without Pietro_. Watching television— _without_ _Pietro_. Saving the world— _without_ _Pietro_. She has never felt more alone.

She’s not…completely alone, though, and that’s something. Nobody will ever replace her brother, but he isn’t the only thing she has anymore. The Avengers, the Bartons…Vision. Maybe she isn’t sure how that makes her feel just yet, but she knows right now that she would rather have them than not.

Wanda holds the cup in both hands and takes a sip.

Vision hesitates. “I have told you in the past that I cannot possibly imagine how it feels to lose someone you care about so deeply,” he says at last, “but if there _is_ anything…”

“There is, and you are already doing it,” Wanda promises, taking his arm again. She pauses for a second before putting her chin against his shoulder.

Vision is still at a loss for words, but he gently puts his hand over hers. “Are you certain?”

Wanda nods. Then she yawns. “Vizh, do you want to go and sit down?” 

Maybe they can find something to watch until the team wakes up. They make their way into the compound’s main living room and settle down on the couch, Wanda curled comfortably around her tea while leaning on Vision’s side. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs, watching the steam rise from her cup. She hopes he hears everything she’s trying to say in those two little words.

Vision looks at her then, tenderness upon his face. “You’re welcome, Wanda.”

Wanda rests her head on Vision’s shoulder again, closing her eyes. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read! All comments and kudos are GREATLY appreciated!


End file.
